shh, no shouting
by The Cheshire Riddler
Summary: Madame Pince has watched three generations of Hogwarts couples, and this one just isn't up to parr. So she screams about it. Oneshot.


**Author's Note: ****Alright, this is a story inspired by how frustrated I got by Hermione and Ron's relationship—or lack of—for six books. Dedicated to my friend Baha, hope you like it! This was also brought on by my intense love for the story _Lamentations of a Starry-Eyed Twit_, which is a diary-written fic told from Professor Sinistra's POV. The story's main couple is Sinistra/Snape and it made me fall in love with the pairing!  
**

_Additional, Canon Side-Note: In an interview, JKR said that Hannah Abbott ended up marrying Neville Longbottom--and became the landlady of the Leaky Cauldron!! _

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters.**

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Shh!

or

In Which Irma Pince Looses Her Temper, and Everyone Suffers the Consequences

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Couples at Hogwarts, Madame Pince decided, had _definitely _gone down hill since the days of the last generation—the generation with Sirius Black, breaker of many, many hearts. What a year it had been when Reamus Lupin had bet that Sirius couldn't date thirty-seven girls at once. _What _a mess!

Then there had been James Potter and Lily Evans. Potter took for_ever _to grow up and deflate his ego a little. Evans had similarly taken a while to stop becoming angry at everything James did. When they had finally resolved matters in their seventh year, Pince had wanted to cry with relief. The hexes Evans had continually thrown at Potter from their first to sixth years had constantly put Pince's precious, precious books in danger.

Ah, and Arthur Weasley's shy crush on Molly Gilligan. Both purebloods that held no inflated pride at the name. They had become friends, Arthur believing his love was unrequited. But Molly slowly began to fall for him, and their friendship blossomed into the eventual romantic proposal during You-Know-Who's first rise, which Molly had—of course—accepted. They know had a whole batch of orange hair, freckled kids, ranging from the Terrible Twins (as Pince liked to think of them) to Perfect Percy (who Pince thought fondly of ever since he took a Burning Hex for the _Deluxe Ultimate Edition of the Gibbons' Family Cooking Secrets._

Oh, and the generation before that—_her _generation—had been quite the scandal. Albus Dumbledore had been quite the handsome Professor, and that Tom Riddle. For all he had turned out to be an evil, murdering Dark Lord, he had that down right **sexy** Slytherin smirk!

A Ravenclaw first year looked up, not believing his ears. There was _no _way Madame Pince had just giggled like a schoolgirl. He took one look at her scowling face and his worries ceased. He shook his head, smiling at his own foolishness. There was nothing in the world that could make Madame Pince giggle at her age.

Madame Pince could clearly recall the number of suitors she'd had. But not nearly as many as Madame Pomfrey—how gorgeous that woman had once been in the prime of her life! But Pomfrey had turned in glamour for motherly charm and gave up her suitors to be the nurse at Hogwarts.

And don't get her started on Argus Filch—what a catch that man had been! But after womanizing at least a good half of the female population at Hogwarts, he had sworn them off after falling hard for a one Minerva Norris McGonagall. His passionate love for her had him stay at Hogwarts and become the Caretaker. He'd even named his cat after her!

But Madame Pince had always been suspicious that McGonagall had carried a flame for Albus—pity that Pince had never gotten proof. What a pair the two of them could've made!

The laid back, easy-going Dumbledore and the strict, uptight McGonagall. Too bad that McGonagall would never let that happen.

Maybe if Madame Pince could get McGonagall _really _drunk…

—wait a second! This just showed how downhill things had gone from the good old days. Teenagers now-a-days were so _difficult. _What happened to the days when a boy could stand at the door to the Great Hall and profess his love for a lady like brave Gregory Potter (father of James Potter) had done to Elizabeth Patterson?

Yes, things had definitely gone _down_hill.

"Good afternoon, Madame Pince!" A bright, happy voice greeted.

Madame Pince allowed herself to grimace in reply to Hermione Granger's smile as the Gryffindor walked into the library, no doubt heading to the section where all fifty-one volumes of _Hogwarts: a History _were kept.

_Go spend your time with the Weasley boy! _Madame Pince wanted to shout. _Can't you see that he bloody likes you?!_

But no, Granger had settled down in the Hogwarts—History aisle, where she would presumably stay for several hours. The only thing Hermione could see were the words of books, not the truth that saw every time she looked at Weasley!

Her foul mood becoming even fouler, Madame Pince peered down at her desk. A pile of papers—later notices, to be handed out to unfortunate students who had kept there books past-due—were waiting to be passed out by the ancient library pigeons Madame Pince kept in her office, which was conveniently right behind her desk. But she decided to wait. Sending the pigeons with the notes of past-due books and detentions would cheer her up, and right now she wanted to be _angry. _

"…_stay away from me!_" Someone yelled angrily, though, regrettably (thought Madame Pince) just before the library doors.

Ginny Weasley strode into the library, her face a thunderstorm of rage, anger, and confusion. She didn't even look up as she passed Madame Pince. Instead, the youngest Weasley walked right over to where Hermione was sitting, took the seat next to her, and began to outright _bawl_.

Watching as Hermione immediately began to comfort the crying Weasley girl, Madame Pince frowned and sighed. That would be Thomas's work, no doubt. Dean Thomas was easily jealous and very possessive. If Ginny Weasley so much as breathed in the direction of another boy, Thomas would accuse her of cheating on him in half-a-second and in the next punch said boy.

"Idiot," Madame Pince muttered, her long, bony fingers reaching down into the pile of past-due notes to check…ah, yes. There Mr. Thomas's name was. His atrocity had been committed when he checked out…

_Taming the Beast: How to Keep a Hold on your Anger_ by Justin Climb. Past-due: three hours.

Madame Pince snorted wryly at the title of the book. It figured. Thomas was trying, but, judging by the degree of the Weasley girl's crying, not nearly hard enough.

Though it didn't hold a candle to when Sirius Black had cheated on Melanie Haste in their sixth year, blatantly in front of her with her sister, Carol. Oh, how hard and fast and long the water works had come then! Madame Pince cackled just remembering it.

Of course, Sirius had made it up to her the next day, Madame Pince recalled, her scowl coming back. And Melanie had believed him. Just as Carol had believed Sirius had broken up with Melanie. Sirius had had a nice little show going on there, before he dumped them both for the European twins, Heidi and Elle Fletcher.

Soft foot steps broke Madame Pince's trance.

She looked up, her fiercest glare on, and was glad to see Neville Longbottom flinch.

"What? What is it, boy?" Madame Pince growled sharply. "Spit it out!"

Neville, obviously at a loss, sputtered out, "Uh…I…check out—…book?" He gingerly set a book on the desk, eyeing Madame Pince, tensing in case she decided to stab him with the quill in her hand.

Madame Pince sneered, whipping out one of her claw-like hands, and grabbed the book. She was inwardly pleased to see Neville flinch back.

"Mr. Longbottom," She leered, glaring at the boy, who looked like he was about to wet his pants. "_Plants of Peru: Penultimate Edition_, huh? Hardly _light _reading,"

Neville nodded helplessly, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. "Yuh-yes, Mm-Madame Pince," He stuttered out, visibly shaking now.

Madame Pince flicked her wand and the checkout was marked in a huge, intimidating book. She held the book in her clutches, prepared to verbally assault Neville for the next half an hour, using the bitterness of this school having no good couples to fuel her anger.

"Now, Mr. Longbottom, last time your book was one week early. Have you any idea how much this messed up the delicate system I spent thirty years of my life spending?" Madame Pince snapped, building up steam. "No, I think not, since you so blatantly—"

"Neville?" A sweet, female voice asked. "Oh. Madame Pince. Hello, I was just checking to see if Neville was done here."

Hannah Abbott appeared, smiling widely, her dimples showing off to perfection. Her butter blonde hair was a French braid that hung down to her shoulder blades. She was wearing clothes that emphasized her short, super curvy figure.

_About time Ms. Abbott grew up_, Madame Pince thought dryly. _Though I do wonder what brought it on…?_

Hannah laid her hand on Neville's shoulder. His quaking stopped instantly and he turned his head to grin at her bashfully. Their eyes met and they both looked away, blushing heavily.

_Oh..._

_—OH. _Madame Pince thought.

It was all she could not do to grin evilly. (Though, in reality, any grin she made was evil _and _scary.)

"We're done here," Madame Pince said suddenly, startling the two red-faced students.

Hannah jumped back a little, removing her hand from Neville's shoulder. Her tomato red face took on the color of a fire truck. She determinedly stared at the floor.

Neville stared at his shoulder, as if wishing her hand was still there, before turning to Madame Pince. He swallowed nervously, but didn't want to loose face in front of his current crush, "Uhh…"

Madame Pince inwardly smacked herself. "Hear you are, Longbottom." She handed him his book without even on warningly about treating the book like it was worth more then he would make in his life. "Now you two go on outside. It's very lovely out there by the lake." She crooned while making a "shoo" motion with her hands, "Go on now, go!"

It was, overall, very scary and uncomfortable.

Neville looked at Hannah.

She met his gaze and mouthed 'hurry up', but softened the words with a breathtaking smile that made Neville's cheeks flush even darker.

Neville's head slowly swung around to look at Madame Pince. "Um, Madame Pince…?"

"Yes." She answered pertly, raising her thin gray eyebrows, daring Neville to go on. She tried to look as scary as possible, just so…

There! It was all she could do not to punch her skeleton fist in the air with triumph.

Hannah, seeing Neville was about to loose his nerve, slipped her dainty hand into his bigger, clumsy one. He looked in her direction and smiled shyly at her before turning back to Madame Pince.

"Did-you-ever-date-Mr.-Filch-because-Ron-bet-me-five-galleons-you-did-and-Dean-bet-ten-galleon-you-asked-Mr.-Filch-out-and-he-turned-you-down-and-I-said-that-you-guys-never-went-out-and-then-Hermione-said-that-you-guys-had-come-to-a-truce-cuzza-something-or-other!" Neville said in a rush with his eyes squeezed shut.

Madame Pince blinked. She didn't even _want _to guess what had brought this bet on. But her and Filch.

How would they know? Unless Argus…?

No, no he wouldn't.

…would he?

"All four of you," Madame Pince said frostily in her Ice Queen voice, "are wrong. Now remove yourselves from my presence before I give you detention enough to last you for the rest of your lives."

Madame Pince mentally patted herself on the back as she watch Hannah and Neville speed-walk out of the library faster then anyone had ever done before them—still holding hands.

But even the joy of setting a new record couldn't shake the feeling of unease Madame Pince felt. What if Argus had spilled the story? Oh, she'd never live it down!

"Good afternoon, Miss Irma,"

Madame Pince looked over the tops of her glasses at Auriga Sinistra, the Astrology professor. Auriga was beaming happily.

And Pince was having none of that.

"I fail to see what's so _good_," Madame Pince sneered, her upper lip curling, "about it. I've had a rotten day and calling it pleasant isn't just a lie—it'd be ironic. And I _hate_ irony just like I'm beginning to _detest _your _pleasant _presence, so _say_ what you came to say and be _done_ with it!"

Sinistra stared at her for a second through her own, slightly more fashionable, glasses. Finally, the much younger woman said, "Huh, seems like something's got you all up in a twist. Has Snape been here?"

This was crossing a very delicate line.

All of Hogwarts knew that Auriga Sinistra and Severus Snape absolutely loathed each other with a passion.

All of Hogwarts (minus Sinistra and Snape) also knew that Sinistra and Snape loved each other with a—hidden—passion as well. There were several betting pools on when they were going to get together.

Madame Pince firmly believed they would make an adorable couple. They'd bicker and argue like heck, but then they'd kiss each other just to shut the other up. It would, all in all, be supremely amusing to watch.

All the two had to do was _get together_.

But like every other "should-be" couple in this darned school—THEY HADN'T!

Why?

Pince hadn't the faintest idea!

And that bugged the bloody guts out of her.

"NO, HE HASN'T BEEN HERE." Pince roared. "DON'T ACT LIKE YOU DON'T CARE! YOU KNOW THAT YOU SECRETLY WANNA SNOG THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS OUT OF HIM!"

Sinistra turned a faint pink color. "Now, Pince, really, this is totally uncalled, uh, for," She stammered awkwardly, very aware of the faces peering out at the screaming librarian from the rows of books, for among those faces was Lavender Brown, the infamous Gryffindor gossip.

"Should I get Madame Pomfrey?" Hermione asked, popping out from out of nowhere.

Madame Pince turned her wrath on the girl.

"AND YOU! DON'T EVEN GET ME _STARTED _ON _YOU!_ YOU ACT ALL SMART AND OBLIVIOUS—LIKE YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW THE WEASLEY BOY IS PRACTICALLY IN LOVE WITH YOU--_IS _IN LOVE WITH YOU!" Madame Pince bellowed, her wrinkled, prune-like face turning red in anger as she released all the pent-up emotions and stress that had been building ever since her couple-watching had gone sour.

Hermione paled considerably.

Ginny came up behind the bushy haired girl, wiping away tear marks from her red-rimmed eyes. "What's up?" She asked, sniffling. "I thought I heard yelling…" She caught sight of Madame Pince's angry face and her voice trailed off. Never before had anyone seen Madame Pince this angry. Not even when Crabbe had dared Goyle to eat _The History of Hogwart's Illustrious Librarians_--one of Pince's favorite books--and Goyle had. You can imagine the reaction.

"WEASLEY GIRL, GLAD YOU COULD MAKE IT. WHY HAVEN'T YOU SNOGGED THE POTTER BOY YET? _HUH? _IT'S BEEN ABSOLUTE _TORTURE _WATCHING YOU MUDDLE UP RELATIONSHIP AFTER RELATIONSHIP TRYING TO MOVE ON WHEN IT'S _OBVIOUS _HE'S STARTING TO GET JEALOUS!"

"Madame Pince, what is the meaning of this?" A cool, collected voice asked.

Sinistra snapped to attention, glaring through her slightly dusty glasses at the speaker, Professor Snape.

"GOOD, SNAPE. I WAS HOPING YOU WOULD COME. WHY HAVEN'T YOU CONFESSED YOUR UNDYING LOVE TO SINISTRA YET?"

Snape blinked. Snape twitched. Snape shuddered. Snape sneered, "Where on Earth did you happen across that idea, Pince? I believe you are spending far too much time with Dumbledore."

"THAT REMINDS ME, WHERE IS MCGONAGALL? THAT'S THE WOMAN WHO NEEDS TO SPEND MORE TIME WITH DUMBLEDORE." Madame Pince declared, her voice—if it was possible—rising three notches.

"What…Irma, what exactly is the meaning of this…display?" McGonagall's sharp, irritated voice reached them from the door to the library. It was obvious she'd heard Pince's last explosion.

"You may not have noticed, but some students are attempting to _study_," She added, firmly looking at the nosy students who'd been watching.

They slowly turned back to their books, regretfully throwing looks over their shoulders, wishing they could hear more of Madame Pince's rant.

"WELL—"

"As for you, Miss Irma Pince," McGonagall said sternly, ignoring the mouthed cheers Ginny and Sinistra were making behind Pince's back. "I believe your voice has exceeded the usual library limit. Even though you are the librarian,"

Madame Pince was sputtering soundlessly now, looking utterly shocked.

"I shall not hesitant to inform you that," Professor McGonagall continued, "the noise level rule _does _apply to you also. It _can _and _will _be enforced if you carry on in this disgraceful and _unruly _manner!"

Madame Pince had given up sputtering; instead she just let her mouth hang open as she stared dumbly at McGonagall.

"Now, everyone please return to your former activities." McGonagall said briskly, clapping her hands. She turned her back on Pince and faced the small group that had gathered. "Auriga. May I ask what brought you here?"

Professor Sinistra pushed her glasses up the brim of her nose. "A student walked out of the library after Madame Pince first…exploded." She added, "I could hear it from two corridors away, so I came to check things out."

McGonagall nodded. "Very well," She faced Snape. "Severus?"

He eyed her bleakly. "The same student who warned Sinistra," an automatic sneer curled his lip, "thought it best to again warn someone more equipped to handle the situation."

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Miss Granger? Miss Weasley? Anything wrong with either of you?" McGonagall turned to face them, raising a brow.

"No, ma'am," Hermione shot back, always one to answer fast and first—and politely.

Ginny was a little bit slower, replied a full two seconds after. "No, Professor,"

"Then I suggest," McGonagall stated primly, her mouth a firm line. "You two get back to your studies. O.W.L.S. are fast approaching and I expect every one of you to get then an A for 'Acceptable' at the _least_."

Hermione nodded dutifully.

Ginny just stared, waiting for this lecture to be over.

"Alright, I trust this matter is closed. And I hope, Irma," McGonagall's serious eyes came to rest on Pince. "That this matter of frivolity has been properly resolved and shall _not_, under any circumstances whatsoever, be brought up again."

Pince nodded, still in a daze.

"Well then, good afternoon," Professor McGonagall strode out of the library, her robes swishing around her.

Hermione and Ginny went back to their table, laughing and giggles—softly of course. No one would break the noise level barrier for a good day and half after that display.

Madame Pince watched—still motionless in shock—as Sinistra and Snape began to walk for the door at the same time. They stopped when they realized their destinations were the same.

In union, they both turned, pretending there was a book they wanted to get, trying to separate. The reaction was immediate.

"Stop copying me!" Sinistra burst out, pointing an accusing finger at Snape.

Snape raised a brow and sneered, "Why on Earth would I want to copy the movements of someone know to run into walls who possesses the IQ of a common gnome?"

Sinistra sputtered, "Why you—"

Their shouts brought Pince back to the planet Earth.

"Not shouting in the library," She hissed, her voice commanding even though a whisper. "_Shh!_"

Sinistra looked scandalized. She was being told to politely shut up by someone who'd been screaming their head off only a moment ago.

Snape had the decency to award Pince with one of his scariest glares (glare number forty-two, the one usually reserved for Potter on normal days) before he stalked out of the library.

Sinistra, torn between not wanting to follow Snape and not wanting to stay, glanced at Pince nervously.

"_No book, no service!_" Madame Pince whispered harshly, reaching for her sharp quill.

That was all Professor Sinistra needed. She was outta there faster then you could say "Qudditch".

Knowing it would take a good month before Sinistra recovered enough to come back, Madame Pince sat back in her hard wooden chair, deciding that now would be a good time to send those past-due and detention notes. She gleefully picked up the Thomas boy's late notice, growing suddenly cheerful at the thought of spreading misery via detentions.

-SHH!-

"Irma?"

"The library is closed," Pince responded immediately, before she recognized the voice. She squinted in the dim lamplight, the only lighting in the library currently, and asked, "Argus, is that you?"

Filch stepped up to the desk. "Yes, the one and only—and of course Mrs. Norris," He cooed at his cat, who hopped up onto the desk.

There was a brief silence, filled only by Madame Pince's quill as she scratched out another past-due note.

"So," Filch asked after a long moment, "I heard about earlier,"

"Argus, did you tell anyone about our arrangement?" Pince asked suddenly, her sharp, beady eyes staring at him suspiciously.

Filch's brow furrowed. "No, I didn't tell anyone." Seeing this didn't pacify Pince, he added, "Look, I swear, on _Mrs. Norris_, no one knows that I'm the co-head-librarian. Satisfied?"

Pince nodded, her puckered mouth relaxing slightly. "Yes,"

Another paused, in which Pince wrote some more and Filch absently petted Mrs. Norris.

"So, McGonagall really—" Filch began rather loudly, unsure of how exactly to start.

"Shh," Pince said out of habit, even though they were the only ones in the library. "Yes," She whispered gleefully, "She heard me comment on her spending more time with ole Dumbly and practically blew a casket!"

"If that ain't proof she's got the hotts for him, I dunno what is!" Filch said quietly in his harsh voice.

Muted laughter—one high and shrill, the other low and raspy—filled the dark, gloomy library.

The effect was almost as scary as the fact that Madame Pince was currently dating Flitwick.

_The End. _

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**End Author Note: Hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it! Madame Pince was fun to write, since she's such a piteously petty person. Questions, comments, corrections--review?  
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